I was getting lost in New York, in a good way. I zig zagged through people who were distracted by the task at hand: getting to a doctor's appointment, going to work, going home, etc. I, on the other hand, was getting distracted by the vast waves of people, the humungous buildings, the various cultures. I turned on a street to see a large crowd forming. Normally, I would turn the other way, but this crowd mesmerized me. I didn't realize what I was doing until I was standing in the front of the rest of the crowd.

A man with a crazed look in his eyes stepped towards the crowd around him, a gun raised high in the air. Two other people stood behind him: a man and a woman. The woman trained her gun on him, ready to shoot if the need arose. She must be a cop, I thought to myself. The man had a panicked but hard look on his face, as if he was ready to tackle him or run, maybe.

The duo of heroes were both very photogenic. The woman had long auburn hair, brown eyes, and tanned skin. The man had short, brown hair, combed back and fluffy. He had a sharp jaw and grizzled facial hair. He is British, clearly.

I shook my head and focused on the scene. "You will never win!" the armed man shouted. "The weak are always vulnerable. Do you see, Detective Martinez?" He had a thick russian accent. He pointed the gun straight at me. I froze, staring down the barrel like a deer in headlights. The unarmed man shouted in panic. Detective Martinez stepped closer, still steadily aimed.

"Take one more step and this one dies," he said darkly, gesturing to me with his gun. I looked around and discovered I was isolated. Everyone had run away. I gulped. "If you try to run away," he said to me, "You will die faster than you can say 'bullseye'."

"This is ridiculous!" The British man said. "Why would you-"

"You be quiet, too!" The Russian said. "I don't need you to interrupt. Now, Detective, put your weapon down where you can't reach it."

The detective stole a glance at the unarmed man and kicked the gun in his general direction. The Russian smiled. "Don't even think about it. Someone is going to die here today, and it is NOT going to be me!" He put his finger on the trigger. I involuntarily gasped. He pulled the trigger.

I fell backward, landing hard on my back. I was in extreme pain. The man came up to me, placing his hands on my chest and shouting at me. "Can you hear me? My name is Henry, and I'm a doctor. Can you tell me your name?"

"Rachel… Peters…"

"Hello, Rachel! Can you tell me what city we are in?"

"New... York…"

"Great! Now, let's just sit tight until the ambulance gets here. Just stay… oh no… Rachel? Rachel?"

My vision faded, and I woke up shivering and naked in the middle of a lake, gasping for air.